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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497306">Hypothesis Contrary to Fact</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcarlsjr/pseuds/notcarlsjr'>notcarlsjr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 10:09:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,912</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497306</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcarlsjr/pseuds/notcarlsjr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Having grown up in a world where superheroes constantly saved the day, Molly Proctor strived to be as great – though always seemed to fall short. Then, Peter Parker somehow managed to get bit by a radioactive spider. And also apparently believes she’s the only person who’s capable of helping him figure it out. Maybe that makes her greatness-adjacent. Or maybe just a sidekick. Ugh, even worse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. the story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"...And please remember to <em>stay with your partners</em>." The stress on the repeated phrase did nothing but annoy Molly Proctor, among others in the sizable group of freshmen from Midtown School of Science and Technology. The faculty leader made her eyes wider to show that she was just as serious as she had been the other three times she mentioned it. But now it was just beginning to lose its meaning. What did it even matter if they stayed with their partners or not? Everyone was going off on their own anyway; they had to complete the science sheet by traipsing through Oscorp's public access floors before the end of the field trip. A glorified scavenger hunt.</p><p>Sometimes Molly wished she had chosen to go to Brooklyn Visions for high school. Maybe then she wouldn't have to go on stupid field trips. They were in high school for fuck's sake. There was no reason for field trips anymore. Though, on the flip side, she wasn't going to complain about getting out of classes for a few hours. Made the day roll by a bit faster.</p><p>"Hey, partner," Another reason why she wished she chose to go to Brooklyn Visions came to a bouncy stop beside her: Peter Parker. She stifled an eye roll at his hopeful puppy dog features: the dopey smile, floppy brown hair, bright eyes and the casual bounce he was maintaining even though he had come to a stop beside her.</p><p>While her immediate reaction was to roll her eyes, she hated how her body betrayed her with a flush of butterflies in her stomach. Why did she have such a crush on someone so stupid? Probably just because he was cute. Fuckin' puberty. Ruining everything.</p><p>"Hey." she gave him a tight smile before averting her eyes to anywhere but his face. Or rather, the lame graphic tee he was wearing that had yet another unfunny pun on it. Not unlike most kids in their class - and school, he stood a full head taller than her. She had convinced herself that it was because she was a full year younger than him and the rest of her classmates, thus wasn't at the same developmental stage as her fellow students. But considering how both her older brother and sister were almost six feet tall, the Punnett square was not in her favor.</p><p>In an effort not to look at Peter, she let her gaze land on their science teacher, silently shooting death rays at the woman in the tweed skirt. Apparently a trip to Oscorp was the perfect time to shuffle up the lab partners. Randomly assign kids to each other to rip them of their freedom of choice. Not that there was a world where Molly would go out of her way to choose Peter to be her partner - which was the point she guessed. Especially since Peter and his best friend, Ned Leeds, always chose each other for every single partnered project no matter the class. Molly usually begrudgingly took whoever was leftover, making it clear that she was going to do the project on her own. She could do it in less time after all. And it would turn out much better. No one ever cared, letting her do all the heavy lifting and taking the credit when it was finished. Not that it bothered her <em>that</em> much; she'd rather get a better grade than make friends.</p><p>"Ready to get started?" There was a squeak of hopefulness to his voice that was already beginning to irritate her, especially when it was paired with the matching, raised eyebrow look. He tightened his backpack straps, fiddling with the loops on the ends of the cords for a moment until he realized it was distracting her. Once he stopped, her eyes shifted up to his face and she raised her eyebrows.</p><p>"Yeah, sure, whatever." her answer prompted a bright smile to break out across his features. Seemingly relieved that she was going along with him, he momentarily rolled up onto his tip toes which annoyingly made him even taller, then shot her with his finger guns. She let out a deep sigh through her nostrils, bordering on the acceptance stage of who she had been partnered with: the happy go-lucky kid from Queens who never had a negative thing to say about anyone - even her.</p><p>Which was surprising considering there had been <em>plenty</em> of negative things said about her throughout her first semester at Midtown. Some of the stuff she was used to; the jokes about her age were the big ticket items. No one used to care about the fact that she skipped a grade because the kids she had been with had always known. High school was a different story, and a whole new crop of kids. Thanks to some current events that had passed, she had subjected to the ones about her older sister's involvement with taking down the extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency alongside Captain <em>fucking </em>America (who she once brought to a very awkward Thanksgiving). Then there was the usual snide mean girl comments from some of the other girls who just were going through <em>that phase</em>.</p><p>Usually, Molly was pretty good about letting them roll off her back. She didn't care about her age difference; she was smart enough to know and prove that she belonged in the class. Generally speaking, Molly's opinion of her sister was low to begin with so comments about how she was a terrorist or whatever didn't sway her opinion any which way; really it was about time everyone else learned how much she sucked. And those mean girls were the same ones buying Adderall from her whenever they needed help getting through an all night cram session meaning she was getting paid from them - their comments didn't matter.</p><p>Maybe she didn't have a lot of friends, but that was a personal choice. She didn't have time for friendships when she was striving for perfection. Friendships were a distraction. They took time and attention away from what was important. She couldn't have gotten straight A's her first semester if she had joined band or robotics club. Hell, the only reason she was on the decathlon team was because her across the street neighbor made her join - saying she needed to be involved in <em>something</em>. And also it worked better for carpooling purposes. Even then, she knew she needed to be the best of the best: know every answer, be the first one on the bell, etc. etc. They would be a winning team. They <em>had to be</em>.</p><p>Failure was always Molly's worst enemy. She hated it. It made her feel like her older sister. A woman who was already in a supermax prison by the time Molly was born. Someone who her parents had nothing but bad things to say about her. Not someone to look up to, but someone to look down on. She was better than her sister, she knew that, but it was about proving that to everyone else. Sure she skipped class, but that was because she was bored of the material - <em>not</em> to go smoke weed and rob a convenience store with her boyfriend. She was smarter, more in control, just better overall.</p><p>Which was why she not only needed to finish the quasi-scavenger hunt, but finish it <em>first</em>.</p><p>Annoying scavenger hunt aside, their trip to Oscorp Industries was one of the better field trips the class had taken throughout the year. Of course, it was no Stark Industries, but the company was still interesting. Working in the science field, the company was research based - lending it's hand to anything biochemistry related: cellular and developmental, molecular, virology and immunology, and even genetics. All things that interested Molly, which was one of the reasons she chose to go to Midtown; because of their emphasis on the sciences.</p><p>Throughout the building, there were scientists working on various experiments. Some were willing to take a moment to talk to her and Peter about what they were doing, which allowed them to answer a few of the prompts. That was all they needed to do; then they could move on to the next one. Though considering how Peter insisted on continuing the conversation with each scientist or Oscorp they came across - even after they had answered the question, the prompts apparently didn't matter. If it was any other time, Molly would be doing the same thing, but there was a time limit and they needed to move as quickly as possible which meant his constant chatter was getting to be <em>unbearable.</em></p><p>There was only so much she could take. And once she reached her breaking point, instead of lashing out, she instead just quietly snuck away from him. There were still several more questions on the sheet that needed to be answered and instead of focusing, he was chattering away with Dr. Curt Connors, a scientist who apparently worked with his parents before they died. As much as she wanted to stick around for a trip down memory lane - which she <em>really</em> didn't, she also wanted to finish their assignment. She knew she would be able to do it better on her own. Plus it wasn't like she was going to make it so he didn't get any credit; his name was still on the paper. No one would ever know that they had split up.</p><p>He would be fine.</p><p>Only a few minutes after Molly snuck away - and after his conversation with Dr. Connors finished, did Peter realize she had ditched him. Confused, and a little bit worried, he went in search of her, knowing that they still had a good portion of the sheet to finish. He wasn't exactly sure why she had ditched him, but he figured it wasn't good that she <em>had</em>.</p><p>Truth be told, Molly scared him a little. Not only was she just as smart as everyone in their class, she also was a full year younger than them all. Meaning it took her less time to get through the material they had done. Intimidating. That and her personality was another thing that made him a bit afraid of her; she was a bit off-putting. Despite Peter always trying to be nice to her, she always seemed to be frowning or silently judging everyone. A resting bitch face is what his aunt May called it. But Peter didn't think she was a <em>bitch</em>. That was way too harsh. She was just…particular. She wanted things done in a certain way: her way.</p><p>It had been a bit nerve-wracking to be assigned as her partner. Especially considering no one ever <em>picked</em> her. Just like how no one picked him for dodgeball in gym class. Mostly because there were rumors that she just took over and did all the work for the project. He figured most of his classmates would jump at the chance to not have to do any work in a group project, but it seemed like that wasn't the case.</p><p>Still, the smaller brunette girl had been pretty lenient while they were going through Oscorp. Stood by and waited for him to finish his conversations with the scientists and employees that happened way after they had gotten the answers they were looking for, <em>and </em>even let him decide where to go one of the times. Then she disappeared. Ditched him.</p><p>Thankfully, there weren't too many places in the building that were even open to the public. Mostly because of the research that was going on behind the closed doors. It was amazing how much science was happening in one building. If only he had the time to stop and appreciate it all. But no, he had to track down his missing partner before their teacher found out they had split up. That wouldn't be good. He really couldn't afford another detention.</p><p>As he hurried through the wing he had last been in with her - half tripping over his untied shoelaces, he tried to keep an eye out for her. She was tiny, which could be both an advantage and disadvantage. Currently it was a disadvantage; she could meld into the crowds of their classmates or other groups of visitors. She had been wearing her usual outfit of an old oversized plaid flannel with a turtleneck underneath that was tucked into a pair of high waisted cuffed jeans. Despite it being well into the new year, she had always dressed like it was still the nineties.</p><p>Unlike Brooklyn Visions, Midtown didn't have a dress code: allowing students to express themselves as much as they wanted to. An important part of their mission statement. That and being committed to molding the young minds of tomorrow's future through hands-on learning experiences - like with an interactive field trip to Oscorp.</p><p>During his search for his partner, he tried to remember where she had decided they were going next. He remembered that she had plotted the hunt so that it was strategic instead of in order of the questions. That way they would get back to the main lobby as fast as possible.</p><p>"Have you guys seen Molly?" he asked while passing by a few of his classmates. No one responded verbally, but a few gave him strange looks. Either they had no idea who Molly was or had no idea who he was - or both.</p><p>Getting a bit worried and worked up, he turned down a random corner. While he lightly sped walked down the hall, he looked over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't behind him. Since his eyes weren't on what was happening in front of him, he didn't realize he had walked straight into someone until their collision.</p><p>Anywhere else, a run-in like this would be nothing more than a simple bump of bodies. Except at Oscorp, someone was always navigating a cart of supplies, looking over results, transporting materials or holding a container full of samples. Like the woman he had bumped into. The container, and all of its contents, went crashing to the floor. Petri dishes popped out of their nests - smacked against the floor with a loud sound. Some sort of green dye puddled on the floor around the now empty container.</p><p>Immediately dropping into a crouch, Peter started to fumble out a rapid apology to the woman in the lab coat. He tried his best to pick up the stuff that was near him, but was really just scrambling to grasp at whatever he could.</p><p>"Just leave it please." the woman held up her hand to stop him from making any more of a mess. He paused for a moment, making eye contact with the woman, then looking at what he was holding: two empty, semi broken petri dishes. Awkwardly, he pushed them into the woman's hands and then quickly got to his feet.</p><p>"Sorry, again, really sorry." he stuttered out while holding his now empty hands out. Backing away as fast as he could, he tripped over his shoelaces once more before spinning around. His sneakers squeaked against the floors as he hurried away from the woman and the mess he had made.</p><p>Deciding it would be better to wait for Molly down in the main lobby, he stepped onto the first elevator he could find. After what happened, there was no reason to keep running around the various wings. If his run-in with the scientist was any indication: he was pretty accident prone.</p><p>As the elevator pulled him down, he went to look at his father's watch that he always wore around his wrist. Just to know how much time they had left before the field trip - and scavenger hunt, was over. Only instead of focusing on the watch, his gaze was pulled to the small, black spider that was crawling across the top of his hand.</p><p>Acting on instinct - and with a high pitched yelp, he smacked his other hand down on top of the spider that had been making its way across his skin. When he removed his hand, the spider was gone. Heart pounding, he looked down in between his feet to see that the now dead spider had fallen off his hand and onto the elevator floor.</p><p>A beat passed before he crouched down over the spider to get a closer look. He let his backpack slide off his shoulders so he could open it to pull out his pencil case. With a pencil, he poked the spider with the tip so that it rolled over onto its back. It didn't look like any of the spiders that co-habitated the bathroom of his aunt May and uncle Ben's apartment. Those were brown and kind of small. This one was bigger and seemed to have more legs than usual but maybe he was just imagining things. There was also an almost green-ish tinge to the spider, something he had missed upon first slap. Definitely <em>not</em> a normal spider.</p><p>"Weird." he breathed out, suddenly very interested in the spider that he had killed. Still using his pencil, he scooched the body into the small, handheld pencil sharpener he kept in his pencil case. Just for safekeeping.</p><p>What he didn't notice was the small, red welt that was beginning to blossom on the top of his hand.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: Me? Starting a new story? IT'S TRUE! And it's HAPPENING! I hope you're all ready to join me on this new adventure that will 100% tie in with <strong>REALITY IN MOTION</strong> later down the line. Let me know your thoughts and theories! Love you all v much!</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. leaning on myself</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Reaching over to where the iPhone rested on the cradle, she tapped her finger against the skip button. Effectively skipping the song right before the chorus came in, and getting a laugh of astonishment from the driver.</p><p>"Jeez, can't even let us get through one song, can you?" Liz Allan glanced at her passenger out of the corner of her eye. The entire drive home from school had been scored by brief snippets of her entire Spotify library. Usually she would take offense to it, but she had grown used to it with Molly. The whole "driver picks the music" rule never applied when she was in the passenger seat.</p><p>"I can when it's a good song," Molly responded matter of factly. If she didn't know any better, she would've thought Molly was quite literally turning up her nose. After skipping the next song before it even started, she settled back in her seat and let the sounds of SZA fill the car. To prove a point, she let the song play in its entirety as her neighbor tried not to smile.</p><p>"Did you have fun on your field trip?" she reached to turn down the volume so to be heard as she tried to make conversation with the younger girl. At the question, Molly shrugged and made a face - thoughts about the field trip apparent even without a true verbal response.</p><p>"It was fine." she supplied with a deep sigh. As if the field trip had been so physically taxing on her, that it had weighed her down until that moment. Although all they had done was wander around the building of the family business one of their classmates'. Much better than whatever it was the public school kids had to do.</p><p>A junior to her freshman, Liz liked to think of herself as the mentor to her young neighbor. Hell, she was the reason Molly had even decided to go to Midtown in the first place. She had talked it up so much, convinced her how much better it was than Brooklyn Visions, and now she was trying her best to deliver. However, Molly was not making it easy on her. Each time she tried to include Molly or bring her in, it never worked out like it was supposed to. Maybe it was the age difference, or just personality differences. Either way, it didn't stop Liz from trying. Much to Molly's annoyance - which she found kind of funny at times. Sometimes it was like she was trying <em>too </em>hard to show how much she didn't care.</p><p>"Did you have to do that scavenger hunt?" Liz thought back to her freshmen field trips. There were plenty of them, and while she knew the school didn't always do the same field trips every year, the general activities were the same.</p><p>"Ugh, <em>yes</em>." her head slammed back against the headrest with annoyance, "And I got paired up with <em>Peter Parker</em>." she rolled her eyes while Liz's eyebrows rose at the name.</p><p>"From our decathlon team?" she asked for clarification, not knowing if there was another Peter Parker in the freshmen class. There were about a dozen Liz's and a few Molly's in the school after all. A groan was the response and confirmation that Liz needed to continue, "Wait, why is that a <em>bad</em> thing?! He's nice!" Molly's nose scrunched up at the compliment directed at Peter.</p><p>"Annoyingly so." she stuck her tongue out in a disgusted manner, "Like so much so that he wouldn't <em>shut the fuck up</em> while we were doing the scavenger hunt." she reached out in front of her - acting like she was strangling an invisible Peter, "We had to talk to, like, every scientist in a lab coat." she slumped down in her seat, "So I ditched him." she muttered out while picking at her nail beds.</p><p>"Molly!" Liz chastised although she sounded amused by her admission, "You <em>didn't</em>." she glanced away from the road long enough to look at the younger girl. Shrugging, Molly didn't try to defend herself. Peter was dragging her down. Holding her back. So she cut herself free. She had a task to finish.</p><p>"Nothing <em>bad</em> happened." she added as an afterthought with a slight shake of her head. As if she was trying to reassure Liz that it turned out a-okay. And it had, "I finished the scavenger hunt and he was waiting for me in the lobby. We were the first ones done." Again, she shrugged. No harm, no foul. Plus, they had won. Gotten a homework pass. Whatever good that was. Liz couldn't help but laugh a bit at Molly's description of events. Some of her friends always, verbally, wondered why Liz kept the kid around; she was kind of a bitch. But Liz found her sort of endearing and kind of funny - once you got past the RBF and the radiating waves of general annoyance that rolled off of her.</p><p>Getting out of Liz's car, Molly looked across the street to see that nobody seemed to be home at her house. All the lights were out except the porch light - even though it was still day time. A sure sign that her parents had gone out and weren't going to be back until after dark.</p><p>"Do you want to come over for dinner?" Liz offered, having noticed the house across the street. Even if she was in high school, Molly was still young enough that she probably shouldn't be home alone if it could be helped. She pulled her backpack out from the floor of the passenger seat to swing it around her shoulder.</p><p>"No. I'm fine." she responded curtly. She had reached her social limit for the day. While she was a bit annoyed by her home situation that was waiting for her, she was also kind of looking forward to being alone. She had to decompress after a day of dealing with Peter Parker and his unwavering bouncy energy, "Got homework." she added as a lame excuse as to why she wouldn't be joining Liz and her family for dinner. Not only did she want her alone time, she also <em>hated</em> awkward family dinners. She had enough of those in her short life already. And she didn't need Liz's mom or dad to be pitying her because she was left home alone. She had been left home alone plenty of times before - hell she was surprised her parents even considered themselves parents still. Not like they did much of it.</p><p>"Alright," she gave her neighbor a sunny smile, "I'll see you tomorrow." she freed Molly from the conversation. Not hesitating a moment longer, she walked down the driveway, looked both ways before crossing the street over to her house.</p><p>Just as she suspected, the house was empty when she walked inside. Not that it was surprising. Her parents were always out: either at work, at a workout class, or playing golf or out to dinner with just the two of them. She only ever saw them in the mornings and sometimes at night when she would sneak down for a midnight snack.</p><p>Molly was the surprise kid. She knew that from the moment she could form coherent thoughts - mostly because her older siblings drilled it into her. It was meant to be a sweet, inside, family joke. Maybe one day she would get it. All she knew was that she was unplanned. Not meant to happen. An accident. Or a <em>surprise</em>, as her mother always tried to correct her with a honey sweet tone that meant she didn't believe a word she was saying.</p><p>Her parents had already gone through the whole child-rearing thing twice over. Apparently it was hard enough the first two times around - what since one ended up in prison and the other was more interested in graffiti art than finishing high school. Considering that by the time she was born, both of her siblings were already taking care of themselves, it was clear her parents didn't want to do it again. Leaving Molly to basically raise herself.</p><p>Sure, they took care of her: gave her a roof over her head, food on her plate, clothes on her back, pretty much anything she asks for, etc. etc., but they never showed any <em>interest </em>in her. Never asked <em>why</em> she wanted to turn the basement into a mini lab. Or <em>why</em> she wanted all sorts of intense, high technological lab equipment. They just gave it to her. They didn't care about her unless it was to brag to others about how great she was (see the awkward Thanksgiving dinner), or if they needed something from her (like the time they wanted to discuss moving to the suburbs). The closest she could ever get was when she was sent to the principal's office for skipping class. And even then it was a side comment of: <em>you're just like your sister.</em> spoken in a tone that made her blood boil. She was <em>not </em>like her sister. She was so much better. By god, she was going to prove it.</p><p>If she had a therapist, which she didn't, they would say her obsession with perfection was based solely on lack of attention given during her formative years. She wanted to be seen, heard, even just <em>acknowledged</em>. Validated. They would say her thought process was dominated by the need of approval. All she wanted was her parents' approval. So she had to be the best in her class, the best decathlon member, the best daughter. The best.</p><p>But she didn't have a therapist. All she had was herself. And, for some reason, the innate need to prove to her parents that she was more than just an accident or a surprise or whatever. She was worthy of their love goddamnit.</p><p>With no note, per usual, from her parents about their whereabouts or when they would be back, Molly went about her usual after-school routine. Plugging her earbuds into her phone, she then clicked on <em>her</em> carefully curated playlist. No offense to Liz, but her playlist didn't have any skips. She let her music play through her earbuds to drown out the overwhelming quiet of the empty house.</p><p>Thankfully, her parents didn't totally suck and always had the fridge stocked with whatever she put on the grocery list. A small gesture to show they <em>sorta </em>cared. Or maybe it was the only way they knew she was still alive-slash-still lived there. Since food was disappearing, it meant <em>someone</em> had to be eating it.</p><p>Grabbing a sparkling water with one hand, she reached for one of the snack packs with the other. The kind that was divided like a mini Bento box: one section of mini cheeses, one of almonds, and another of raisins. All the major food groups. She liked to stack them on top of each other to make a mini sandwich.</p><p>"Oh why thank <em>you!</em>" A tattooed hand snaked out to snatch the snack pack from Molly's grip. Spinning around with a glare already on her face, she zeroed in on her older brother standing behind her with a satisfied grin.</p><p>Yanking her earbuds out, she swatted them at her brother. He flinched, but laughed, already popping open the snack pack as she continued to whip the earbuds at him. Red marks striking across his exposed skin that wasn't covered in ink. At one point, she was too slow to pull them back, which allowed him to wrap his hand around the wires and tug them forward. Inadvertently letting go, she allowed him to win. He celebrated with a victorious cheer, tossing the earbuds to the side, then hopping up onto the island counter to dig into the snack pack while she fixed him with another annoyed glare.</p><p>"Ugh, Frankie!" she stomped her foot at him, "That's <em>mine</em>." she told him matter of factly. He raised his eyebrows at her, eyes flicking up and down her outfit,</p><p>"And that's Quince's." he waved his finger around the plaid flannel she had donned all day at school, "She know you've been sneaking into her closet?" The word <em>closet</em> was used loosely considering most of her old clothes were still in boxes in the basement. She pulled her arms around herself as if trying to hide the flannel from him. It wasn't her fault that her mother decided to keep all of her older sister's older clothes or decorate one of the bedrooms exactly like her sister's old room. And it certainly wasn't her fault either that the flannels were perfectly worn in and comfy. Eliminating the need to do it herself. All she had to do was wash the smell of cigarettes and must out of them - Tide did the trick on that one.</p><p>"If she really cared about this, she'd come back and get it." she lifted her chin defiantly. It was an argument she had with herself before, and one she would have with anyone who accused her of stealing her older sister's clothes. Not that anyone ever did, but she was ready when they wanted to. Like right then, "Much different than stealing my snack pack right out of my hand." Only he didn't seem to care, shrugging and gesturing to the fridge behind her.</p><p>"Get another one." It was as simple as one, two, three, but it was the <em>principal </em>of the matter. He just took hers like it didn't even matter. Crossing her arms over her chest, she let out a huff.</p><p>"What are you even <em>doing</em> here? Mom and Dad aren't home," she spun around on her toe to go back into the fridge, "so it's not like you can get any money from them." she sassed, but he only laughed.</p><p>"<em>Ow</em>." he pretended to be hurt, speaking around a mouthful of almonds. God, he didn't even eat the fucking thing correctly, "You do know I own my own business, correct?" he alluded to the tattoo shop he owned in Brooklyn. Not that she had ever been, but she had still looked up the ratings online once or twice. Apparently, he did a good job. And also practiced on himself considering the amount of tattoos that littered his skin. He didn't even bother to keep them covered; the v of his shirt letting some of his chest tattoos peek out. She liked a couple of them.</p><p>When she was younger, he let her color a few of them in with her markers. One time she doodled a thread of small leaves up his forearm and the next time he came home, it was still there; he had made it permanent. She always tried to find that one first whenever she could - though didn't make it obvious she was looking for it.</p><p>"Must not be doing so hot," she grabbed another snack pack before shutting the fridge door and turning back to face her brother, "considering you ask Mom and Dad for money <em>at least</em> once a week." she snipped back with a pointed glare. He made a face, digging through the raisin section of the snack pack for any sort of M&amp;Ms or chocolate that might be there. There wasn't.</p><p>"It's called <em>gaming the system, </em>young padawan." he raised his hand up to circle it through the air, "Just like you do with that Adderall prescription of yours." he smirked at her while his tongue clicked against the side of his mouth. She narrowed her eyes at him. Oh she did not like how he knew about her scheme.</p><p>"I need those so I can focus." she lifted her chin in the air a bit, daring him to argue with her. Which he did.</p><p>"Uh-huh, sure you do." he didn't believe her, laughing a bit as he continued, "Need 'em so you can focus on makin' money." To show what he meant, he rubbed two fingers together in the universal sign of money.</p><p>How he knew about her game was beyond her, but she didn't like it. Her business was fully operational and running smoothly. It was easy to trick her doctor into giving her a prescription for the Adderall. Then even easier to have her parents fill it for her. From there, she sold it off to her fellow students (Midtown was a <em>very</em> demanding school), and then pocketed the profit. Easy, peasy. She didn't need anyone to fuck it up.</p><p>"I <em>could</em> just tell Mom and Dad that <em>you've </em>been stealing them and selling them, you know." she narrowed her eyes at her older brother while slightly threatening him. Though it didn't work; all he did was snort in amusement.</p><p>"They'd have to actually remember you exist first." he shot back, cutting deep and then opening his mouth in an <em>o</em> and laughing at his own comeback. She repeated him in a mimicking way while uncapping her sparkling water.</p><p>"Shut up." she finished her mimic in her normal voice with a straight, unamused face. He smirked at her, eyes following as she walked past him and to the other side of the island. She pushed up on her tip toes so she could extend her body out across the island and grab her earbuds from where Frankie had tossed them.</p><p>"Oh, Olly." he sighed out, using an annoying childhood nickname just for the hell of it, "You're a gift, you know that, right?" he placed his chin in his hands while impersonating their mother, "A light in our life." he made his voice airier, mocking the way their mother spoke. Although it had been <em>ages</em> since her mother had said anything like that to her. Rolling her eyes, Molly didn't give in.</p><p>"Why are you here then?" she was half hopeful that their parents had sent him to check in on her. Make sure she was okay on her own.</p><p>"Laundry." her hope faded immediately at his answer. Slumping down, she made a face of disgust. Of course he was only there for selfish reasons. To use the free washer and dryer. Not because he wanted to hang out with her or because their parents had asked him to check in on her.</p><p>"Ugh, whatever." she was over the conversation. If he wasn't there for her, he was taking up her time. She had other things to do. Like homework.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: Just a little peek into Molly's home life! Definitely something we'll be exploring more but we're still in the set up stages so bear with me haha. Thank you to everyone who reviewed the first chapter! I really appreciate your thoughts/reactions. Makes me feel like it was ok to start a new story lol. Happy Easter to all of you who celebrate it!</em>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. eye roll</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The school parking lot was a minefield of students, cars, and bikes that Liz easily navigated to get to her assigned spot. Once she was parked, Molly pushed herself out of the car with her backpack in one hand while scrolling through her Twitter feed with her other. She had to catch up on the news and social going ons.</p><p>"Don't forget: I have a student leadership meeting after school." her carpool buddy reminded her with a flip of her hair. Glancing from her phone screen across the roof of the car, Molly made it clear that she heard and understood Liz without actually saying anything.</p><p>She hadn't forgotten; the meetings were the same day every week. Forcing Molly to stay at school even longer than she wanted to in order to get home. There was no other option for her either. She didn't have another way home. She wouldn't be able to get her license for a few more years. There was no bus route that she could take. It's not like her parents would pick her up. She was stuck. Relying on Liz was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she didn't have to take public transportation. A curse because the junior seemed to be involved in <em>every. single. </em>after school club. How did she have the energy?</p><p>If anything, Molly might be a little jealous of Liz. As the two vastly different girls walked across the lot to the entrance of the school, there wasn't a single person who passed who didn't say hi to Liz. Yet, none of them gave the same greeting to Molly. Not that Molly cared, of course, but it was so interesting to see how Liz seemed to draw people to her. Like moths that were attracted to whatever light source was brightest.</p><p>For a good portion of her first semester at Midtown, she tried to figure out why Liz attracted the entire student body. There had to be some reason behind why everyone was obsessed with Liz. Was she pretty? Of course. She was effortlessly beautiful in a way Molly couldn't understand. Even when she wasn't wearing any makeup, she still looked pretty. Her style always rivaled the magazines and runways. She didn't just <em>walk </em>toward the school, she somehow <em>floated</em> there.</p><p>Sure, she was smart. But <em>everyone</em> in the school was smart. That's why they all went to Midtown. She didn't stand out because she was smart. She was involved with a lot of extracurriculars, but none of the usual <em>popular girl</em> ones like cheerleading or whatever. More like the Student Leadership Committee and the decathlon team.</p><p>It took a bit for Molly to figure out the reasoning behind everyone's clear obsession with the junior. Then it dawned on her; she was nice too. Knew everyone's name who passed by with a hello. Greeted them with a warm smile that never seemed to falter. Whatever movies or shows Molly watched growing up were wrong. The queen bee didn't have to be mean and exclusionary to rule the school. Liz wasn't, and everyone - <em>everyone</em> - loved her.</p><p>Honestly, for all intensive purposes, Molly should've hated Liz. She was the antithesis of Molly's entire vibe. There shouldn't be the weird acquaintanceship between the two girls. Yet, there was. Partially why Molly tried so hard to put up a front. She couldn't let Liz see that she <em>enjoyed</em> some of the things the older girl included her in. The eyerolls, the unamused looks and general attitude were all a defense mechanism. Though she would never admit it, she was almost honored that Liz chose to keep her around. Deep down, Molly could only wish to one day be as pretty, popular and perfect as Liz was.</p><p>Of course, Liz had her inner circle. Those who began to adhere themselves to her sides with each step closer to the school. People like Cindy Moon and Seymour O'Reilly, who greeted Molly briefly before edging her behind them. There were more important things to talk about like whatever the latest school gossip was.</p><p>Not being included in the morning tea was something Molly had become accustomed to dealing with from Cindy and Seymour. A clear cue that her time with the queen bee was up. It was time to fall back to her status as lowly freshman.</p><p>Being a lowly freshman meant having to go her separate way from Liz, who made a point to say goodbye to her. They would see each other again at the shared lunch period they had. That was one of the "classes" the girls shared since it wasn't' year specific. Midtown kept most of the classes within the specific years, but there were a few that intermingled lower classmen with upper classmen. Something that was, unfortunately, always class specific was her homeroom.</p><p>Sorted alphabetically by last name, there must not have been a lot of <em>P</em>'s in the freshman class. Only because her and Peter <em>Parker</em> were in the same homeroom - a last name that was nowhere near <em>Proctor</em> in the alphabet.</p><p>While there weren't <em>technically </em>assigned seats for the homeroom period, there was an unspoken rule that the seat you chose on the first day was the seat you sat in for the rest of the year. Which was why Molly had chosen the seat in the exact center of the class. Not wanting to look too eager by choosing the front row, or like a slacker by choosing the one in the back. The center middle seat made it clear that she was a student who cared about her work, but wasn't a kiss ass. Those kinds of kids were the worst.</p><p>Usually, Peter sat in the back corner of the room. Far enough away from her, and also behind her enough so she wouldn't be distracted by him. It made it easier whenever she stepped into the room to see that he was already sitting there. The butterflies would start to flutter until she sat down in her seat. Her gaze effectively cut off from him meant there was no reason for gross crush-like feelings to arise. Also he was just a stupid boy so she shouldn't even have anything like a crush on him in the first place.</p><p>That day, however, rather than being in his seat in the back corner, Peter made a beeline right toward her. Internal alarms blared as he flopped down into the seat in front of her. One arm casually hung off the back of the chair while the other rested on the attached desk. He looked slightly frazzled for a Thursday morning. Out of breath for some reason Molly didn't want to think about - or about how his cheeks were tinged slightly pink which made it look like he was blushing or nervous, but still cute.</p><p>"Molly, hey," he gave her a lopsided smile that made his eyes…. honestly twinkle a bit. <em>Fuck</em>. Taking in a sharp breath through her nostrils, Molly defaulted to her usual behavior: cool indifference.</p><p>"What's up?" she droned out. Her eyebrows rose in mock interest but her gaze fell back to the notes she was going over for one of her classes. Just so she didn't have to look into those dark brown, now <em>twinkling</em>, eyes of his.</p><p>"I need to talk to you about something." his voice dropped a level so it was almost a whisper. Like he was about to tell her a secret.</p><p>Noticing that his shadow had moved over her notes she glanced up quickly. Which was a mistake. Peter had leaned closer. Closer so that he was hovering over her desk. And was staring at her intently, eyes locking on hers in a way that made it hard for her to pull her gaze away. She managed, but she could feel the back of her neck heat up. Goddamnit. Now she was getting annoyed. It wasn't even nine in the morning.</p><p>"It's about something that happened during the scavenger hunt. At Oscorp. Yesterday." he continued in the same hushed tone. She glanced up at him again, making it quicker than the last time so not to be pulled into his eyes again.</p><p>"I already told you I put your name on the paper." she sighed rather heavily. This happened a lot. Whenever she had to work with a partner, they always had to triple check to make sure she had given them the credit for the work they <em>hadn't </em>done. Of course Peter wanted to make sure he got his due credit too. Whatever. It was a small price to pay for a perfect grade.</p><p>"No, no, no, no. That's not it." he shook his head while the hand on her desk waved back and forth, "It's actually something...else?" his voice went up at the end which made his statement sound more like a question.</p><p>Sighing, she propped her elbows on top of her desk so that she could place her hands over her face. God, how she wanted to be done with conversation. There wasn't anything else she could think of that could be bothering him about the scavenger hunt. They had finished first, with all the right answers, and he was getting full credit. Why was he continuing to put her through this torture?</p><p>"Peter, oh my God." she groaned, "I do <em>not</em> have the time for this." she said from behind her hands. There was a pop quiz she had to worry about, plus a lab exercise and the rest of her classes. Whatever it was that was bothering him could wait.</p><p>Thankfully before he could say anything else on the matter, the person whose unassigned seat he had taken showed up. Ever the gentleman, he fumbled his way out of the seat. Apologies were blurted out while he tried to maneuver his way around their fellow student. Only he ended up in a slight dance with the other teen for a moment. The only way he got out of it was deciding to step onto the chair and over the desk into the aisle. It was painful to watch.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him straighten out his sweater. Tightening his backpack straps he lopped off to his seat in the back corner where he fell into his seat with a loud huff. Not wanting to look over her shoulder at him and give him the satisfaction, she refocused on the notes in front of her. There were more important things to worry about than Peter Parker.</p><p>Like the pop quiz in her physical sciences class. Something she tried to focus on even though Peter tried to get her attention both before and after the quiz. She had hoped her blatant ignoring of him would be enough to make him stop trying, but no. She had to endure his attempts to talk throughout the entire day.</p><p>They didn't share a lot of classes together, but the ones they did made for perfect opportunities for Peter. He tried to talk to her during their silent reading time in their freshman English class, obviously disregarding the whole <em>silent</em> part of the reading time. English wasn't her favorite class, but she at least thought she'd be safe from his badgering considering they were supposed to be reading <em>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn </em>for their rhetoric analysis.</p><p>A break in the pestering came during her Global History class since he had a different class at the same time. Since their generation seemed to be living through a world shaping period of history, it was almost nice to learn about a world pre-Avengers. A little break from both reality and Peter.</p><p>Although they shared a lunch period, he wasn't brave enough to approach her while she sat at a table full of juniors. Especially with one of them being Liz. If anything the usual boring conversation about whatever it was Liz and her group of friends talked about was acting as a good buffer. While he walked past the table, he caught Molly's eye and gave her a slight wave. She didn't return it. And she certainly didn't watch as he narrowly avoided running into someone, twisting around in a circle all while balancing his tray full of food. Not even a fry fell off the already leaning stack.</p><p>"How's the research course going?" Liz pulled her into the table's conversation. Making a face, Molly shrugged while picking at her food. The 9th grade Research class was one of the Freshman Foundational Courses that all the freshmen had to take. It alternated with the Elements of Engineering Design, which Molly had taken her first semester.</p><p>While the Engineering class focused on the fundamental approaches within engineering by emphasizing principles of and applications in circuitry, pneumatics, and kinematics, the Research course was more up Molly's alley. It taught the basic skills of scientific investigation and scientific writing by having every student do their own research project of their choice. While she hadn't decided her topic yet, she was excited about strengthening her skills. Unfortunately, it was the last class of her day, and of course, the final class she shared with Peter.</p><p>"Fine. We have to pick our topic soon." she shrugged again. There wasn't much to talk about regarding the class. Everyone seated at the table had taken it earlier. It hadn't changed since their freshman year.</p><p>"Just try not to be predictable." Cindy advised even though Molly hadn't asked for her advice, "Like <em>so </em>many people did something Captain America related because of his super genes or whatever." she waved her hand in the air, not noticing the way Molly's nose crinkled up at the mention of Captain America. God, she hated that guy. It was bad enough her sister was maybe dating him, but the school continued to show outdated public service announcements he did for schools at any possible moment.</p><p>"Or the popcorn experiment." Seymour added, "Do you <em>know</em> how much popcorn I had to eat?" he scoffed, then flicked his hand up, "<em>So </em>much sodium." he made a disgusted noise. Molly eyed him sharply.</p><p>"No star spangled man with a plan or <em>popcorn</em>. Got it." she dryly responded, slumping down in her chair a bit more.</p><p>"I'm sure you'll come up with something good." Liz assured her with a kind smile. Molly took her encouragement with a grain of salt, raising her eyebrows up but not commenting on it. The conversation then dissolved into old research topics and failed experiments that happened in the foundational course.</p><p>By the time she actually got to the class, she had a list of topics she was supposed to avoid. A list she promptly threw in the trash. She didn't need their help. She could figure it out on her own.</p><p>The only good thing about the class was that everyone had to do their <em>own</em> research project. Meaning there were no partners or groups that she had to navigate through. She could work at her own pace and do her own thing. Thank God.</p><p>"Molly, I <em>really </em>need to talk to you." Peter leaned over to whisper to her before class began. She didn't bother to look at him. She had hoped he would've given up by now; he had even tried to talk to her during the decathlon practice, but it was clear whatever was on his mind wasn't going away soon. "Moll -"</p><p>"Mr. Parker!" the teacher called out to cut him off, "You can talk to Ms. Proctor after class, alright?" Being associated with Peter made her frown. She wasn't the one doing the talking. Peter was. Shooting an annoyed glare at him, his face paled slightly under her withering look. Good, maybe he'd finally get the hint.</p><p>Satisfied with his reaction, she turned her attention back to the teacher. Though Peter didn't try to talk to her for the rest of the class, the constant tapping of either his pencil or foot made it clear he was going to try to as soon as the bell rang. As much as she wanted to just not deal with whatever it was, she didn't have any other excuses up her sleeve to use. Not only was the school day going to be over, she also had to wait around for Liz to be finished with her Student Leadership meeting. She was trapped.</p><p>Even so, it didn't stop her from trying to escape the class as fast as possible. The final bell rang and Molly was out of her seat before it even finished ringing. She pushed through the kids from the front of the room who were trying to leave before her. No idea where she was headed, she just knew she needed to get out of Peter's eyeline.</p><p>Ending up at her locker, she shuffled her books around between her locker and backpack. She had a few things she had to take home for homework reasons, but a couple of the textbooks could be left. Unnecessary weight. Students navigated through the halls, around her like a semi-cohesive expressway. One side was for one direction, the other side was for the opposite. Seamless, but chaotic at the same time. Everyone was either trying to get to their after school activities, sports practices, or just trying to leave school to go home.</p><p>After swapping out the unnecessary books for the necessary ones, Molly turned away from her locker. Only to come face to chest with Peter <em>fucking </em>Parker. How did he even get there so fast? Or know where her locker was to begin with? Not even bothering to hide her groan of annoyance, she turned to start walking away from him.</p><p>"No, Molly, wait, please, I -" he followed after her, the nervous bounce in his step apparent, "I gotta get to band practice, but I really need to talk to you about something that happened at Oscorp yesterday." he rambled out while trying to dodge other students in order to get in front of her, "I didn't think anything of it until I woke up this morning and things have been really, well, like <em>really</em> strange." he rolled forward on his toes but kept his balance rather well. "Alright, you know what? I'm just gonna say it." he decided with a slight outstretch of his arms, "I got bit by a spider." his confession made her pause in her step. Slowly turning to face him, he tried to figure out what sort of emotion was displayed on her face before realizing there wasn't one.</p><p>"You what?" she was neither surprised nor annoyed, just questioning.</p><p>"I got bit by a spider and I think it may have done something to me. I don't know really. All I know is this morning I accidentally broke my bedroom door off its hinges and when I squeezed the toothpaste tube thing it exploded in my hand. Toothpaste was <em>everywhere." </em>he laughed lightly at the imagery. She didn't. "But I figured I'd talk to you about it since you're good at this biology genetics whatever stuff. And you probably found out a lot about Oscorp when you were doing the scavenger hunt." he gestured aggressively at her, but she managed to dodge his hand at the last second. Eyeing him skeptically, she watched him fiddle with his fingers before sighing.</p><p>"Where did you get bit?" her question made him flick his hand up quickly. She could've sworn she heard one of the cartoon noises that came along with it whenever something appeared out of nowhere.</p><p>"On my hand. Right on the top of it." he shook it slightly, but when he stilled, there was no sign of any of the side effects that usually came with any sort of bite.</p><p>"Are you sure you're showing me the right hand?" she asked slowly with a raise of her eyebrows. God, it was like dealing with a tall child.</p><p>"It healed." he awkwardly told her, pairing it with a shrug and a half smile. Like he had just been caught in the cookie jar, not with a magically healed hand.</p><p>"<em>Right</em>..." she trailed off, hoping her tone was laced with enough doubt that he would get it. She didn't believe him in the slightest. No <em>way</em> did he get bit by a spider, only to have the bite heal within the day. From what she could remember from her studies, usually a spider bite took about a week to heal. There were no sign of any sort of bumps or welts, nor was the skin of his hand blue or purple. Whatever he thought he had been bitten by, it wasn't a spider. "Well, if you pull a <em>door </em>off its hinges, it must've been some sort of <em>super</em> spider," she made her eyes wider to indicate she was being sarcastic, "Have you been able to communicate with any other arachnids?" she tilted her head to the side. The joke went over Peter's head; his eyes widened with a bit of fear.</p><p>"No...not that I...I don't think so." he managed out while she rolled her eyes. Jesus. "Look," he moved on, shrugging his backpack off of one of his arms, "I still have the spi -"</p><p>"Peter, I really don't care." she cut him off with a raise of her hand, "Whatever it was that did or <em>did not</em> bite you wasn't a spider." she was pretty sure he hadn't even been bit in the first place, "You're probably just going through some sort of adrenaline rush or whatever." she put it plainly and added a shrug for good measure, "Or you've got rabies." she made her eyes wider and his matched hers. The thought of rabies apparently never crossed his mind, "Don't you have to go to band practice or whatever?" she crossed her arms over her chest, reminding him that he had other places to be. She didn't. She wished she did, but she didn't.</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, yeah I gotta...I should go." he looped his arm through his backpack strap again while nodding in agreement, "Uh, thanks, I guess." he gave her a closed lipped smile before darting off down the hall. She watched him go down the now empty hallway only to see him skid around a corner toward the music room like he was drifting a car in a <em>Fast &amp; Furious</em> movie.</p><p>Once he was gone, she took in a deep breath through her nose. She wasn't sure why she had been so worried about why Peter wanted to talk to her. Or what about. The conversation had been stupid, and frankly, a waste of her time. There was no way he had been bit by a spider in Oscorp. Not only were there only a few research labs that were open to the public, the scavenger hunt sheet hadn't had any questions regarding spiders of any sort. Peter had no reason to be near or around any sort of lab that did that sort of testing.</p><p>Unless, he had been somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. Even though he had been waiting for her in the lobby, it didn't mean he hadn't spent <em>some</em> time wandering around Oscorp. Looking for her. Since she ditched him without a word (something that he never brought up to anyone either).</p><p>A strange tightness began form in the pit of her stomach. Replacing the flutter of butterflies that appeared whenever she was around Peter. Her hand drifted down to rest against her stomach, not sure why she was having such a physical reaction to thinking that maybe something <em>had</em> happened. Because she ditched him.</p><p>"Oh fuck." she whispered to herself; it was guilt.</p>
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  <em>A/N: Things are starting to haaaappppeeeennn! Ah! Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far. I really appreciate hearing all of your feedback. LMK your thoughts and theories!</em>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. nothing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Guilt was not something that Molly was familiar with. She never felt guilty for her actions. Why would she? Whatever she had said or done was appropriate in the moment. Certainly never had those actions caused a fellow classmate to be supposedly bitten by a spider. Not that she was even sure he had been.</p><p>There wasn't any good reason as to <em>why</em> the guilt was settled like a rock in her stomach. Peter and her weren't friends. If she had someone to compare it to her, her closest "friend" would be Liz. And she hadn't felt guilty when she ditched Liz the night she invited her to the movies with her group of friends. Actually, she was relieved that she <em>didn't </em>have to go to the movies. Nothing worse than sitting in a dark theater for hours on end, watching something subpar.</p><p>So it was confusing that there was even any guilt to be had. <em>Was</em> it just her body betraying her because of the annoying attraction she felt toward him? She didn't <em>care</em> about Peter. <em>Maybe</em> she had a little crush on him, but that was purely physical. Nothing emotional. That shouldn't be a factor in the whole guilt thing. Was it because she had been called out on ditching him? No one had ever called her out on her decisions or actions before. No one cared enough to.</p><p>To be fair, he hadn't really <em>called her out</em> either, just alluded to knowing that he was ditched by her for an unknown reason. And it wasn't even a point blank allusion either. It was her stupid brain putting together pieces of a puzzle she didn't want to solve. She had come to the conclusion that he had been bitten by a spider (or whatever) because <em>he</em> had been looking for <em>her</em>. Because she ditched him. Her brain was basically telling her it was her fault. Which wasn't fair in the slightest.</p><p>It wasn't fair because she wouldn't have ditched him if he hadn't spent <em>literal hours</em> chatting up every lab coat they came in contact with. It wasn't fair because she didn't <em>ask him</em> to come looking for him. And it wasn't fair because she didn't like having to face the consequences of her actions! Ugh!</p><p>Never faced with such a tight, uncomfortable feeling like this, Molly tried her best to just ignore it. Thinking about anything else as she wandered the halls of Midtown, she waited for Liz to be done with her Student Leadership Committee meeting. It was only supposed to take an hour, but most times it took longer. The conversation almost always spiraled out of control and into other topics that had nothing to do with the committee.</p><p>While she actively tried to ignore the tightness in her gut, she settled in one of the empty study rooms. There were a few littered around the library that people used to meet for group projects or to study alone or just to hang out with friends. Although the rooms were just four window walls, all of them were soundproof and decked out with the latest technology to make practicing presentations easy.</p><p>Usually, she used the time she had when Liz was in her committee meetings to make a profit. Selling her Adderall hadn't been planned. It just happened. She realized there was a market for it after begrudgingly giving one to a classmate who happened to see her taking it before school started. It was only then that she realized she could make a profit. Just like all of her favorite television shows had taught her at one point or another.</p><p>There was always someone who had a big test coming up or some sort of project or just needed to focus, and needed a little boost. Her "clients" ranged across the freshman class; from people like the cheerleaders or the ones some would never expect. None of them were her friends, all of them were using her, but she was the one making money so in the end, she won.</p><p>Those who bought from her knew that there was a specific day she was selling (the same day Liz had her committee meetings), but had to text her at least two days in advance so that she knew to bring some to school. Living up to the high school stereotype, the deals usually went down in the stacks of the library. Pills for cold hard cash. Creating a much better feeling than actually taking them.</p><p>Since no one had texted her beforehand, she was a free bird until Liz texted her that she was finished with her meeting. She could use the time to get ahead on her homework, or start thinking of a topic for her research class. But, unfortunately, the only thing she seemed to be able to focus on was the guilt gnawing its way through her stomach lining.</p><p>With the unrelenting emotion drowning her, she reached for the school supplied laptop that was in the study room. There was only one way to get past this annoyance: by checking the facts. Midtown didn't do a lot in terms of blocking certain sites or whatever mostly because they knew their students would find a way around the firewalls. No one could stop you from looking at porn or the schematics for the Stark building. Anything that was readily available on the internet was accessible for Midtown students.</p><p>First, she started off with something she already knew was true. Confirming that it <em>hadn't</em> been a spider that bit Peter. She remembered learning about the arachnid family not too long ago. The way their bodies worked, how the webs were made and used, and what to do if one bit you. The research she was doing was purely to prove her point that he <em>hadn't </em>been bitten by a spider. Google confirmed her suspicions. Molly: one, Peter: zero.</p><p>The world was full of superheroes. Maybe not <em>full</em> of them, but there was a good amount of them around for people to write research papers on them. What they were made of, how they did what they did, why they were who they were, etc. etc. Of course, these were all shared online for the sole purpose of having eyes on them in hopes that someone would recognize the author's supposed genius. Some of it was good, most of it was not so good, but it still gave Molly a good starting point. Peter had mentioned being able to rip a door off its hinges and an exploding toothpaste tube. Since he certainly still looked like the annoying, lanky, too tall teenage boy, there had to be an explanation for the increased strength without the physical muscle gain.</p><p>She compared what he had told her with "heroes" such as Captain America - but he had gone from a short, sickly kid to a muscled giant because of the soldier serum. Peter had no muscles that Molly could see. Mr. Banner turned into the raging Hulk to be able to rip things apart, but Peter hadn't said anything about transformations. Nor was he suddenly a god like Thor. Per usual, the Avengers were unhelpful.</p><p>While she knew a company like Oscorp probably didn't make all of their research public for sake of saving face, and also making sure the competition didn't know about it, there had to be past projects that could give her <em>something</em> to work from. Starting at the source, it was easy to navigate to Oscorp's website and gain access to their past research projects that had been made public through papers and journals. She focused on the ones that had to do with human enhancements since that was clearly what Peter thought he was going through at the moment.</p><p>There were projects on limb regeneration, stem cell research, cures for viruses, and so on and so forth. Nothing detailed anything like what Peter had been talking about. None of the test subjects had suddenly found themselves stronger or faster or better. Just grateful for the second chance. The usual pretend modesty that came with their fifteen seconds of fame.</p><p>The rest of their published research all had to do with military science. Furthering whatever it was that Stark Industries had been working on before Mr. Stark decided to shut down his manufacturing sites. Switching instead to creating peace and protecting the world with his ragtag group of superheroes. Although Molly thought he, the Hulk, and Thor were the only <em>real</em> superheroes. The rest were just...skilled in what they did. Anyone could shoot an arrow or a gun or throw a shield. But that was beside the point. The point was that Oscorp took up the mantle when Stark Industries had dropped it.</p><p>Some news sites had referenced Oscorp in articles that were about the failed Extremis project that led to some human bombs going off around the United States. Oscorp had just been quoted to say that their limb regeneration projects were nothing more than glorified 3D printing. Which Molly was doubtful of, but there wasn't anything to go against it. Some sites talked about the company and its supposed cross-species experimentation, though none of it was ever confirmed.</p><p>It was just dead end after dead end. And Molly was frustrated. Nothing she found on Oscorp was concrete evidence that could be used to ease her guilt. Though maybe since there <em>was</em> nothing, it meant she had no real reason to be guilty in the first place. Maybe it happened somewhere else. After Oscorp. Peter was just too dumb to remember where or when it happened. It wasn't her fault!</p><p>The tightness had only just begun to go away when she remembered part of her conversation with Peter. He <em>had </em>said that he still had the spider. In fact he had been reaching for it when Molly cut him off. Meaning he <em>did</em> remember the where and when he had been bit. Why did he have to continue to make things more complicated for her?</p><p>Her phone hadn't buzzed with an incoming text from Liz yet, meaning she still had some time to herself. Packing up her things, she left the study room to track down Peter. Ready to rid herself of the tightness in her gut, she was willing to look at the supposed spider he had kept after it bit her. She hoped that once she saw it, she would be able to confirm that it <em>wasn't </em>a spider and maybe just another type of harmless insect that hadn't bit him, but startled him. He was just overreacting.</p><p>The hallway to the music room was lined with backpacks. The band leader didn't allow backpacks in the room because it crowded the room and did something to the sound that Molly didn't care enough about to learn. All that it meant to her was that band practice was still going on - as if she couldn't tell that from the slightly off key song exploding from the room.</p><p>Slowly, she walked down the hall, scanning the backpacks for Peter's bag. She wasn't sure which one it was, but knew it was navy blue. Not that helped considering there were several navy blue backpacks lined up against the wall. She'd have to go through them all until she found Peter's.</p><p>She made her way down the line, opening up each navy blue backpack and pulling out the first thing she got her hands on to flip through. As soon as she saw their name, and came to the conclusion that it wasn't Peter's, she moved on to the next one. It took her five backpacks before she got to Peter's.</p><p>Yanking it from the lineup, she stayed in her crouch while she fully unzipped it. Not sure where he kept the supposed spider, she dug through the main pocket of his backpack. Through the notebooks, the crushed packets of gum, and the semi-broken glasses she had seen him wear here and there if he sat too far back in class. His pencil case was nestled up against the side of his backpack. Pulling it out, she unzipped it to begin flipping through the various pencils, pens and highlighters. The pencil sharpener took up most of the space in the case, forcing her to pull it out so she could see into the corners. God only knew how many bobby pins were lost to the corners of her pencil case.</p><p>Not finding anything, she went to put the pencil sharpener back into the case only to pause. Instead of being filled with <em>just</em> pencil shavings, there was...something else nestled among the wood shavings. She brought the sharpener to her eyeline, looking through the blue plastic container to see eight thin, long legs sticking up from the strips of pencils. Almost like spider legs.</p><p>Interest piqued, and without pause, she slipped the pencil sharpener into her pocket. Quickly putting the pencil case back into Peter's backpack, she zipped it up and placed it back in the lineup of backpacks. One hand securely on the pencil sharpener in her pocket, she walked away from the music room and toward the school parking lot. Liz better be done with her meeting soon; Molly had a spider to study.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: I know this was basically just filler, but it felt needed to explain Molly's headspace and process so I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews, faves and follows. I love hearing everyone's reactions so please don't hesitate to leave a review or two! Hope you're all staying safe, healthy and sane.</em>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. come live with me</h2></a>
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    <p>Grabbing his backpack from where it was nestled amongst the others in the hallway, he slung it over his shoulder while he walked away from the music room. Band practice had gone as it normally did: played a few songs, prepped for the Spring Concert, talked about the next season's football schedule so they knew what home games they had to play etc. etc. Nothing too interesting. Adjusting his grip on his clarinet case, he dug into his hoodie pocket for his phone to check the train schedules.</p><p>Usually he could make the four forty-five train, but practice had run a little long thanks to his conductor's rambling. Not that it was a bad thing! It just meant he would probably have to get the five o'clock train instead which put him back home a little after dinner was supposed to start. Something he'd have to relay to his aunt May so she wouldn't have his uncle Ben come looking for him.</p><p>Last time he hadn't told her about a study session with Ned at the school, Ben had showed up all dramatic, saying how he had searched far and wide for his boy. In reality, he had just drove to the school, figuring that was one of the two places Peter was. Still, he liked to make a big deal of things. Not that Peter was in any trouble, his aunt and uncle were just protective. Or rather, caring. That was the better word.</p><p>But thankfully, he managed to slip onto the earlier train right before the doors closed. Flopping down into an empty seat, he kept his backpack on him and slid his clarinet case in between his legs so it wouldn't trip anyone trying to get on or off the train. As he checked his phone with one hand, his other hand shuffled through his hair. May's voice echoed in the back of his head, tsking that he needed a haircut.</p><p>As the train sped down the tracks, Peter took the opportunity to film it. Quickly navigating to his camera app, he swiped against the screen until the the video option was displayed. With the phone recording, he twisted his torso to look out the window he was sitting in front of so the camera could capture the scenery flying by. He had over a hundred short clips from various train rides he had taken throughout the school year. Both scenery-wise and of other passengers. At the end of the year, he planned to put them all together into one big movie. Show the passage of time through the lens of multiple train rides to and from school. A day in the life of Peter Parker. How ever lame that may be - and even if he only showed it to Ned and his aunt and uncle.</p><p>With his clip for the day filmed, he traded the camera app for the various social media apps he had on his phone. The apps provided brief glimpses into his classmates' lives outside of school. Not that he really interacted with them <em>inside</em> of school, but it was still a form of entertainment to make the train ride pass by a bit faster. While he was at band practice, some of his classmates were participating in other after school activities that he quickly tapped through: sports practice, chess club, Ned was building something in Minecraft, yearbook club...</p><p>His thumb paused in its tapping at Liz Allan's story. The only reason he could see the junior's story was because she was on the decathlon team with him. And big into team building, even if she wasn't the captain of the team yet. Though she probably was going to be next year since everyone loved her - she was so great. At the start of the year, she made everyone follow each other and exchange numbers so they could be in one big group message to make it easier to share decathlon information. Even though he could, he never texted her outside the group. Too nerve wracking. Also, sometimes, if he knew she had posted something, he would make a point to avoid watching it or liking it because he didn't want to be weird. Or maybe it was weirder to <em>not</em> watch it or like it.</p><p>Either way, her newest story was playing on his phone, the audio filtering through his earbuds. Allowing him to watch as she lip synced to some song he didn't know. Clearly in her car, the camera then swung around to show an annoyed looking Molly Proctor, glaring at the camera. It didn't faze Liz as she continued to zoom in Molly's unamused face, giggling and singing until the story abruptly ended. Not caring about the next story, he exited out of the app to text Ned about what he was building in Minecraft.</p><p>Liz being friends with Molly honestly confused Peter. Sure, he knew that they lived across the street from each other, but the two girls couldn't be more different from each other. Liz was...well she was <em>perfect</em>. He couldn't help but have a crush on her; she was beautiful and nice and always said hi to him in the halls. Sometimes he thought that she liked him too, but was always too nervous to act on it. So he became a bumbling <em>idiot</em> around her. She was just so perfect! And nice! And pretty! And also smart! Who could blame him?</p><p>On the flip side, Molly was the complete opposite of Liz. She was...well Peter didn't want to say she was <em>mean,</em> because that was too mean. She just didn't care. Like the entire day, he had tried to talk to her about the spider bite, but she just ignored him completely. Made up excuses to get out of talking to him, or actively avoided him. Because she didn't care, and certainly didn't want to help. Though that didn't stop Peter; she was one of the smartest girls in their class and <em>had</em> been his partner at Oscorp so maybe she figured something out during their scavenger hunt.</p><p>When he did manage to corner her to try and explain what happened, she didn't even believe him. (Liz probably would've). Although it made sense Molly didn't; there was no proof. Peter ran his thumb over the top of his hand where the spider had bit him. The bite had, strangely, healed itself overnight. Nothing to show that he had <em>actually</em> been bitten. For some reason he had yet to figure out. All he knew was that it made it harder to prove to her that it had happened.</p><p>Not even the mentions of his new super strength had piqued her interest. All because he couldn't <em>show </em>her right then and there. Well, he was sure he <em>could</em>, he just knew he probably <em>shouldn't </em>go around breaking locker doors off their hinges (something he almost did earlier in the school day). And those were only two examples! He didn't even tell her about how he had managed to get out of the way of a dodgeball he didn't even see coming. Something that had <em>never</em> happened before; he had always got hit first during gym.</p><p>There was no proof. Meaning she didn't believe him, and definitely <em>wouldn't </em>help him until he had something for her. But maybe he didn't even need her help. He could figure it out on his own. He still had the spider. He could do it on his own.</p><p>"I'm home!" he called out while shutting the front door of the apartment behind him. As he yanked his earbuds from his ears, the sounds of Ben's cooking playlist took over. Disco music filled the two bedroom, harmonizing nicely with the sizzling of whatever he was cooking. May rarely cooked; the ill fated mashed potatoes made it clear she was inept, so Ben did it for them. May was better at things like ordering takeout.</p><p>"Pete!" his uncle Ben bellowed back in a warm greeting. Setting his clarinet case by the already set dining room table, Peter let his backpack fall off his shoulders and thump to the ground by it, "That better not be ya backpack." his uncle peered out from the kitchen area with a pointed look. As usual, he was wearing a beanie inside the apartment, and clearly hadn't shaved that day. Gesturing to the backpack with his spatula, he waved it around in the air, indicating that Peter should put it in his bedroom, "Get that outta the way before one of us trips over it." he instructed with a heavy Jersey accent.</p><p>Caught, Peter slumped down as if the weight of the world was crushing him to pick up his things. He even paired it with a groan for good measure, which gained an amused scoff from his uncle. Ben's eyes were on him as he dragged his feet to his bedroom to toss his stuff into his room.</p><p>"Yeah, and I fixed that door for ya too, Pete." he heard his uncle say from behind him, referring to his bedroom door. Which was now back on its hinges after Peter had accidentally ripped it off earlier that morning, "Good as new."</p><p>"Thanks, Uncle Ben!" he called back, grateful that his uncle had fixed the door without any questions asked. He was much more careful in opening, then shutting his bedroom door that time around.</p><p>As he walked back to the table, his aunt May stepped out of the bathroom. Her long brown hair was twisted up in a clip, while her big wire rimmed glasses told him that she had just taken her contacts out for the night. At the sight of him, she reached out to grab his cheeks in both her hands, bringing him close to press a kiss to his forehead in greeting.</p><p>"Hi, honey," she smoothed her thumb against his forehead to rub the excess lipstick from her kiss off, "How was band practice?" she released his cheeks to turn and walk down the hallway.</p><p>"Uh, it was fine." he shoved his hands into his pockets while following her. Shrugging he gave a little more detail, "We're getting ready for the Spring Concert." he added, pulling his hands from his pockets to cross them over his chest.</p><p>"<em>Ohhh</em>," May dragged out the word in an excited way, "We still have to RSVP to that." she reminded her husband as she walked into the kitchen. Peter leaned against the open door frame of the kitchen, watching as May patted Ben's shoulder. The two were about the same height, with Ben just a little bit taller than his wife - and definitely more stocky. The man was built like a house. Opposites surely did attract when it came to those two.</p><p>"We still got a couple of months." he reminded her with a flick of his spatula, "It's not till, what, April? Right, Pete?" he glanced over at his nephew with raised eyebrows. His denim shirt was open, revealing a worn and stained tee shirt that was covered by the apron he always wore when cooking dinner. The one Peter had gotten him for Father's Day; proclaiming that <em>YOUR OPINION WASN'T IN THE RECIPE</em>, in bold caps, under a chef's hat.</p><p>"Uh, yeah, yeah," Peter bounced against the door frame, "Yeah, yeah, it's at the end of April. I don't think it's even on the website yet or whatever so you have time to figure out if you're coming or not." he gestured to them, not wanting them to feel like they <em>had</em> to come. May let out a <em>pssh</em> noise, tossing a kitchen towel at him that Peter caught easily.</p><p>"<em>Of course</em> we're coming." she stepped over him to put her hands under his chin to make him look up at him, "We wouldn't miss it for the world." she assured him with a kind smile. Then snatched the kitchen towel out of his hands playfully.</p><p>"Yeah, Pete!" his uncle chimed in, "Can't wait to see you rock out on that clarinet of yours." he smiled widely at him. While Peter laughed a little at the joke, May rolled her eyes in a way that was more amused than annoyed.</p><p>There was a little bit of relief at the fact that his aunt and uncle wanted to come to his concert. He never wanted to feel like a burden to his aunt and uncle, or make them feel like they had to do anything extra. They had done enough as it was; taking him in when his parents died in an airplane crash.</p><p>Peter was so young when it happened. All he remembered of the day was that his parents had left him with Ben and May because they were going to one of his dad's work conferences. The ones he was never allowed to go to. But he didn't want them to go. It was raining. His dad gave him his watch. His mother gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then they were gone. Literally and figuratively.</p><p>Honestly, he barely remembered his parents. Which kind of sucked. He had all the photo albums and a couple of home videos, but the older he got, the less he remembered specific things. Like how his mom smelled or what they did for his dad's birthday or where they went for family vacations.</p><p>May and Ben did their best to give him everything he needed and then some. By no means were they a rich family; May worked for an insurance agency estimating houses and Ben was a mechanic. Still there was always food on the table, a roof over his head, and clothes on his back. He knew they loved him as if he were their own child. Sometimes it felt like he was.</p><p>"Alright so, days." Ben prompted after they had sat down at the table. A tradition at the Parker family dinner table was to go around and talk about something that had happened during their separate days. That way everyone knew what was going on, and a conversation started instead of them just sitting and eating in silence.</p><p>"Oh, you'll never believe who's house I had to estimate today." May kicked things off excitedly while exchanging the salad bowl for the plate of chicken Ben was holding. Listening intently to May talk about the house she estimated for work (it belonged to the newest member of the Mets), Peter didn't even realize that the scrapes of silverware against the plates were a little louder and sharper than they usually were.</p><p>"Nice reflexes, Petey!" Ben cried out in surprised pride at one point, after Peter managed to catch the glass of milk he knocked over while reaching for the rolls - before it spilled all over the table. It took a second for what he did to catch up to his brain, but once it did, he couldn't help the blush that creeped across his face. Still, neither of his guardians questioned it further, instead moving on to the joke stage about how Peter should try out for some sort of sport at school. As if he wasn't already involved in band, the decathlon team and the robotics club.</p><p>"Pete, you're up." Ben pointed at him with his fork after finishing his story about the car they were detailing at the shop, "And you already told us about band practice." he gave his nephew a smirk. There was an unwritten, yet enforced rule that no story shall be repeated at the dinner table. Meaning Peter had to find something else to talk about.</p><p>"Uh, okay, right," he cleared his throat and reached for his glass of milk. If only to take a sip to stall as he tried to figure out what to talk about. It's not like he could tell them that he got bit by a spider and might now have superpowers. They would both <em>freak</em> out. Plus, he wasn't even sure what kind of superpowers he <em>had</em>, "Uhm, had a pop quiz in my physical sciences class today." he settled on while setting down his milk glass, "I'm pretty sure I aced it, but there were a couple questions that tripped me up." he winced a bit as he remembered the class. He had been so distracted by trying to get Molly's attention that he had just flew through the quiz without really looking at the questions. He shrugged, picking up his fork again, "We're reading <em>A Tree Grows in Brooklyn</em> for our rhetoric analysis. Something about how conflict and growth shape identity." he babbled a bit before putting a bite of food into his mouth, "Nothing else really happened. It's just school. Kinda boring and whatever." he talked with his mouth full.</p><p>"Oh, I don't believe that to be true." May waved her hand in the air with a smile, "You've got all those cool classes. Really hands on stuff, right?" she gestured to Peter, who shrugged again.</p><p>"Yeah, I guess." he didn't know what else to say in fear of exposing himself. Ben squinted at him, circling his fork in the air a bit.</p><p>"You a'ight, Pete?" he was concerned at the off way his nephew was acting. Usually they couldn't get the kid to shut up. But the past two days, he seemed a little <em>off</em>.</p><p>"Yep, yep, yeah, totally." Peter straightened up in his chair, "Yeah, I just got...homework." he finished lamely with a wince at the excuse. Still, his aunt and uncle seemed to take it. May reached over to pat his hand gently.</p><p>"Just finish up the rest of your dinner and clear your spot." she told him as she sat back in her chair, "I'll take care of the dishes tonight." she gave him a warm smile before turning back to her own meal. Never one to be okay with silence, May continued to talk, changing the subject to a story she had seen on the news - something about Stark Industries donating some large sum of money to the victims of Sokovia.</p><p>After he finished his dinner (and cleared his spot like May told him to), he retreated to his room. Even though he was mostly using his homework as an excuse for his off behavior, he did have several things to do for school. Or at least get started on.</p><p>Flopping down at his desk, he extended his legs out in front of him for a moment before digging his heels in to roll himself over to where he had tossed his backpack. Once it was unzipped, he began pulling out the textbooks and notebooks he needed, along with his pencil case. Pushing back with a little more force than necessary, he and the chair went flying across his room. Only to stop when he slammed into his bed, which made him go toppling over. His stuff spilled everywhere, causing him to groan before picking up his things. He really needed to figure this out.</p><p>Figuring then was as good as time as any to start, he opened his pencil case to grab his sharpener. Where he had been keeping the dead spider for the past twenty four hours. Maybe not the most scientific place to keep it, but it was safe. Or at least that's what he thought. Until he realized his pencil sharpener was missing. <em>Shit.</em></p><hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: Just a lil Peter POV for you all! Thank you so much for your faves, follows, and reviews! I really love hearing all of your thoughts on each chapter. Hope everyone is staying safe and sane!</em>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. frame of reference</h2></a>
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    <p>Like most afternoons when Molly got home from school, her parents were nowhere to be found. Didn't matter that she was home later than she usually was because of Liz's meeting. Her parents were never home before her. Either still at work, or at some function they didn't bother to tell her they were going to be at for the evening. Molly wasn't complaining about being alone in the house - and she certainly wasn't going to while she had a dead spider trapped in a pencil sharpener, then hidden in her pocket.</p><p>Being alone meant she could be down in her lab for however long she wanted to be, without getting yelled at about it. Not that she was ever yelled at for spending too much time down there in the first place, but still.</p><p>Unceremoniously dropping her bag in the foyer of the house, she kicked off her shoes and placed them on the shoe rack so her dad wouldn't have a reason to yell at her. He liked things his way and when they weren't, he yelled. Most times, she ignored his rules because who was he to police her when he didn't even raise her. Some would say that deliberately getting into fights with her parents was her way of making sure they still cared, even just a little bit. She didn't think that way though, nor did she have time to waste getting yelled at or reprimanded about not keeping things his way. So this time she put her shoes on the rack.</p><p>Instead of going to her room, which is what most teenagers would do after a long day at school, she headed for the basement. Not so newly renovated anymore, half of the finished basement was her mini lab, while the other half was storage. Mostly her dead grandmother's things that her dad hadn't gotten rid of yet). She never went over to that side; it didn't interest her at all. Molly barely knew the woman anyway. And it didn't matter since her grandmother was dead and gone.</p><p>If there was one word to describe Molly, it would be: spoiled. She was spoiled. Upper middle class, white, big house in the suburbs of Queens, went to a fancy school that was easily payable by her parents. From the outside, she had it all. No one dared looked any further than that. All they thought was that her parents gave her everything - which they did, and she had no reason to be as frigid as she was - which she did.</p><p>The lab in the basement was one of the better things her parents had given her. Decked out with everything a young scientist could need to do experiments, she had her equipment all lined up in specific spots. There was a couch against the wall that she had fallen asleep on more than once, her sister's old CD sound system was plugged in next to it, and she had a mini-fridge that her brother had given her when he moved into a new apartment. There was nothing in it except samples she had been testing. She had an iPad with a keyboard set up so she could look up the answers to whatever questions she had, then a notepad beside it so she could write down her findings.</p><p>Not only did she get use out of the lab during her first semester with her at-home experiments, but it was someplace to escape to when her parents were being their usual selves. They never went down to the basement. There was nothing there for them. They didn't bother her, she didn't bother them. It was a win-win.</p><p>She set the pencil sharpener with the dead spider on top of the lab table for a moment while she got the rest of her things ready. The iPad displayed an image of a normal spider's anatomy; pointing out the same things that her Biology textbook had just on a larger scale. The sounds of whatever mix CD Q's old boyfriend made her was already loudly blaring from the speakers. She didn't know most of the songs, but the CDs were the only thing that worked since the player didn't have an audio jack. Ugh, just a constant reminder that she needed to ask her parents for a Bluetooth speaker.</p><p>Once all of her tools were lined up, Molly grabbed her lab coat from where it folded over the arm of the couch to slip it on over herself. She tied her hair up into a messy bun on the back of her head (only ever wearing her hair up when she was in a lab situation), then sat down in front of the lab table.</p><p>Following proper lab procedure, she slipped on her protective glasses then pulled on a fresh pair of latex gloves so she could handle her tools and the spider itself. That way she didn't have to worry about whatever was inside of or coating the spider getting onto her skin. The last thing she needed was to have some sort of weird reaction like Parker did.</p><p>The rest of the world seemed to fade away as Molly started to carefully dissect the spider that was inside the sharpener. Nothing else mattered beside the arachnid that was on her tray. And since it was as delicate as it was, she needed to be extra careful with how she handled it so not to break anything that wasn't supposed to be broken. She was meticulous and calculated as she went about pulling apart the spider.</p><p>Something she noticed immediately was the greenish tinge to the otherwise black spider. Meaning that it had probably been experimented on before it had met its untimely death. The fangs were already broken, so maybe Peter had been right in saying he was bit. Or maybe it had been broken before he had encountered it. She couldn't be sure.</p><p>Certain things were put into different petri dishes, that she labeled properly before storing. After pulling out the silk glands, she injected colored dye into the spider to see the reaction, and path, to help her better understand what was going on inside the body. Letting it sit under a UV light, she took to her microscope to see what was going on inside the silk sack. She wasn't sure which parts of the spider had been experimented on, or what the results were, but she was pretty determined to find out.</p><p>The only thing that could tear her focus away from the spider she was diligently working on understanding was the persistent grumble of her stomach. The first few times, she ignored it. She could survive without a snack for a little while. After all, she had work to do. But then the growling became louder, and also made her stomach hurt a bit. Meaning she needed to eat <em>something</em>. Even if it was just a small snack.</p><p>Based on the fact that it was already dark out by the time she returned to the first floor, she could gather that she had been working for a few hours without checking her phone. Still, she was alone. There was no sign of her parents being home or generally around. She was on her own for dinner, and whatever other meals she decided to eat afterward.</p><p>Deciding to heat up some leftover lasagna, she made a small salad to go along with it to have something of a balanced meal. She settled at the big dining room table in her designated spot with her plate and glass of milk. The only thing that accompanied her while she ate was the homework she neglected while she had been waiting for Liz to finish her meeting, and then again while she had been dissecting the spider.</p><p>Halfway through her dinner, she heard the sound of keys in the door. One or both of her parents were home. She pretended not to notice, keeping her head down and focusing on her schoolwork. Then, when it was appropriate, she looked over to see her mom walking into the kitchen. Without her heels on, her mother was a few inches taller than Molly. Her brown, but greying hair was tied back in the usual low ponytail at the nap of her neck while her trademark bangs framed her face. Looking like she just stepped out of a magazine, Angie Proctor was dressed to the nines; expensive jewelry complimenting the equally expensive skirt and blouse she was wearing. She looked the part. The woman who bought millions of dollars of art for her clients who were worth even more.</p><p>"This from last night?" she asked without saying hello to her daughter first. She was referring to the lasagna that Molly had reheated, and was currently eating at the table.</p><p>"Yeah, and I made some salad to go with it." Molly answered with a glance at her plate. There was no need to watch her mom step over to the cupboard to grab a wine glass, then to the mini fridge under the counter to get her wine. It was a nightly ritual after all.</p><p>"Molly, come on, you know how I feel about the <em>yeah</em>s." her mother tsked with a shake of her head, "Makes you sound uneducated. We're pumping enough money into that school of yours as it is." she poured herself a glass of white wine before pushing the cork back in, then storing it in the mini fridge again.</p><p>"I'm a teenager, Mom. We're allowed to say <em>yeah</em>." Molly defended herself. Her fork balanced lightly in between her fingers while Angie fixed her with an unamused look. Moving on, Molly asked, "How was your day?" prompting her mother like she was supposed to. It got the focus off of her, and let her mother talk about the one thing she really loved: her job. And art. That was also up there.</p><p>"Is your father home yet?" Angie asked after finishing talking about her day. Molly shrugged, which wasn't a good enough response for her mother, who then reprimanded her daughter again, "Don't <em>shrug</em>, Molly."</p><p>"I don't know." she responded verbally, slightly annoyed by the chastising even though her non-verbal response meant the same thing, "He's <em>your</em> husband." she reminded her a bit sassily.</p><p>"Watch it, Molly." her mother warned with a serious look. Molly hesitated, wanting to say something back, but then decided against it. She turned back to her basically empty plate, finishing up the scraps so she could clear her spot.</p><p>Finished with her dinner, she rinsed off her plate under her mother's watchful eye. The items were loaded into the dishwasher before she moved past her mother to go back down to her lab. Her mother didn't ask her where she was going or what she was doing down there. The parenting quota had apparently been filled for the night; talk about herself, reprimand her daughter. Done and done. No appreciation for the semi-fresh dinner Molly had made up, or even any questions about Molly's day at school. Not that Molly was surprised. Her parents were never interested in her. Or what she was doing.</p><p>Truth be told, Molly wasn't interested in her parents or what they were doing either. It didn't matter to her that her dad was a professor or her mom was an art buyer. She didn't care about how they met or what they did on date nights. If they didn't care about her, she didn't have to care about them.</p><p>What she <em>did</em> care about was the spider currently disassembled in her lab. She spent the rest of the night looking at each part of the spider underneath her microscope. Writing down her findings or Googling questions about why the spider looked like it did. Was it normal? Or because of whatever had been injected into the spider. What <em>had </em>been injected into the spider?</p><p>Whatever it was created the greenish tinge to the spider, along with mutating both the venom ducts and the silk sack. The venom ducts were what worried her more than the silk sack. If Peter really <em>had</em> been bitten by this spider….sure, she hadn't seen any of the <em>typical</em> side effects of a spider bite. He only claimed to have new super strength, she hadn't seen it. But after dissecting and examining it, she was pretty certain this wasn't a typical spider. Meaning the effects of the bite probably weren't typical either.</p><p>The only way to find out what <em>exactly </em>had happened to Peter would be to talk to him herself. Ugh. That sounded like the worst possible option. But, for all she knew, he could already be dead. Which might not be a <em>bad </em>thing, although it certainly wouldn't ease the guilt that had settled its weight on her shoulders. The only way to resolve her guilt was to talk to him herself. Figure it out for herself. Like always.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: Molly's doing some things! Making some discoveries! I'm not all that into science so I'm sorry if this is totally off base haha. But I hope you enjoyed this chapter either way! Please let me know your thoughts and comments, and what you think will happen next!</em>
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  <em>I hope everyone is staying as safe as they can ut there, and happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there! If you don't have a mom, I'll be your mom now.</em>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. settle down</h2></a>
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    <p>Molly hadn't gotten a good nights' sleep. It hadn't been the first time this had happened; the stress of school and tests and projects had kept her up before. And it certainly wasn't going to be the last. But never had she tossed and turned over someone like <em>Peter</em>. Or just over someone's well-being for that matter.</p><p>Every time she tried to close her eyes to try and drift off into her subconscious, her brain would immediately remind her of the results of her experiments. That the spider was obviously tested on before finding its way into Peter's pencil sharpener. That she didn't know the true effects of the testing. That if it <em>had</em> bit him, it could end badly. In death even. And weirdly, strangely, for some reason, her brain twisted it so that she was guilty.</p><p>Not like she had <em>killed</em> him. The spider had. She just didn't <em>believe</em> him. If she had, if she had given him a second to talk and explain - and had actually <em>listened</em>, then maybe she could've figured something out sooner. Maybe he wouldn't be dead.</p><p>She wasn't even sure he <em>was</em> dead. It could just be her guilt thinking of the worst possible outcomes in order to cause her anxiety. Something stupid, but a good self-imposed punishment. The only way to make sure Peter <em>was</em> still alive was to wait until school the next day. Sure, she could text him; she <em>did</em> have his number (thanks to Liz's stupid team building exercises), but that could only get her so far. Anyone could text back. If she saw him in person, he was alive. And alive meant he was fine. She had no reason to be guilty about her actions - or lack thereof. She could wipe her hands clean of the whole situation and walk away. None the wiser.</p><p>All she needed to do was spot him. That's it. It should've been easy considering he was a literal giant. Though really, that didn't mean much when everyone seemed to tower over Molly. As she walked into school with Liz and her friends, she kept a sharp eye out for the other teen. He usually wore the same rotating uniform of a sweater over a button up shirt or an open flannel over a graphic tee with some sort of punny science joke. They always made her roll her eyes.</p><p>If she couldn't find him on his own, she could use Ned as an association. The two were almost always joined at the hip. They had become friends in the beginning of the year during one of the first decathlon practices, then stuck together ever since. Made sense considering they were into the same stuff. But it seemed so easy for them to click. It was never that easy for Molly.</p><p>Just like it wasn't easy to find Peter. God, what was <em>with</em> the universe these days? Making things unnecessarily harder for her. Usually she saw Peter like six times before homeroom started. Either in the hallways, outside the school walking across the field from the train station, or even in the cafeteria where he sometimes got breakfast. That day, she hadn't seen him once. Her brain was focused on seeing him, meaning he should be easier to pick out of the crowd since she was thinking about him. Or maybe <em>since</em> she was thinking about him, her brain was too focused to actually <em>see</em> him. Sometimes she really hated how the brain worked. Especially hers.</p><p>With no other option than to wait until homeroom, she settled into her seat and pretended not to watch the door as each of her classmates walked into the room. Each time she heard someone, she glanced up from her textbook, then immediately looked down when she saw it wasn't Peter. It was excruciating. Kept her stomach rolling with nerves and guilt. She hated it.</p><p>At the sound of the second bell, Peter finally slid into the room - excuses tripping over themselves as they tried to get out of his mouth at rapid fire speed. It was the train, the train was late, so he was late, and he was a little out of breath from running all the way to the classroom. The teacher didn't care. Why would he? It was homeroom. Not an actual class. The teacher just needed to know Peter was there. And he was. He was.</p><p>Molly watched him lope over to his seat in the back of the room. Their eyes made contact for the briefest of moments. Still long enough for him to give her a quick half smile, and long enough for her to feel her cheeks heat up a bit. She had been caught staring. Not good. Only it <em>was</em> good that he was alive.</p><p>Waiting a beat, letting everything settle for a moment, Molly then shifted so she could surreptitiously glance over her shoulder at Peter. He had flopped down at his desk, legs extended out as he slumped down in his chair. He was so <em>long</em>. Gangly. So many limbs. She knew they had the same amount of limbs, but it just seemed like he had <em>more</em>.</p><p>Longness aside, he seemed totally fine. Wearing one of the two outfit options he had, he looked as he usually did. Like a puppy who was trying to catch up to speed. He shoved a hand through his floppy, brown hair to spike it up momentarily, then smooth it back down. There were no discernible effects of the spider bite. At least from what Molly could tell.</p><p>Which was...strange. He had been so certain that he had been bit by the spider Molly had stolen. For a moment, Molly was too. All of her research pointed to it having happened. Though he was just...sitting there. Staring out the window like it was a normal day. Sure his fingers tapped against the desk at the same rhythm that his foot tapped against the floor, but that was normal...ish. Probably just the adrenaline wearing off from his sprint across the football field.</p><p>His eyes were a bit wider and more alert - looking away from the window to dart around the classroom. Like he <em>sensed</em> something. Or at least someone staring at him. Quickly looking away, Molly tried to refocus on her textbook. It was probably <em>her</em> that he felt staring. She knew the feeling well.</p><p>From her distance, there was nothing else Molly could pick out that could prove that he had actually been bitten by the spider. Before she had dissected the spider, he had tried to tell her about breaking the door or squeezing the toothpaste tube hard enough to make it explode. Though there was <em>still</em> no apparent increase in muscle size that could account for that.</p><p>A lump grew in the back of her throat at the realization that if she wanted any answers, she would have to <em>talk</em> to him. And while she really did want answers, she really <em>didn't </em>want to talk to Peter. Not that it was hard to, it was just ….annoying to. First she had to <em>look up</em> at him in order to have a conversation, which was demeaning in its own right. Second, he probably had <em>no idea</em> what was happening, which would make it even harder to figure out what he was experiencing. And finally, she would have to talk to him. Her body betrayed her brain as butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach at the mere <em>thought</em> of talking to Peter. Talking to Peter meant that she had to work harder on being defensive than she usually did. A dangerous game was about to start between her head and her heart. So she forced the butterflies away with a mean thought or two. Her crush was <em>not</em> about to get in the way of her finding out whatever answers she could.</p><p>As everyone reacted to the bell ringing - heading out the door into the hallway to get their first class, Molly instead moved to intercept Peter after he walked out of the classroom. Before he could follow the masses that were filtering into the hallway with their fellow students. He stuttered back, falling onto his back foot instead of putting his foot forward. The other foot stayed suspended in mid-air for a moment while his head caught up to what happened. Surprise colored his face, then turned to nervousness.</p><p>"Uh, hey, hey, Molly." he adjusted the grip on his backpack strap while he looked down at her with a nervous smile, then he cleared his throat so that his voice wasn't as high as it was the moment before, "Uh, what's up?" Someone pushed by Peter so they could get out of the classroom, making him glance over his shoulder, then shift so that the doorway was more open.</p><p>"I want to talk to you about the spider that bit you." she got straight to the point. By the way his eyebrows shot up, and how his cheeks flushed immediately, he wasn't expecting her to go in that direction.</p><p>"What, what...the <em>spider</em>?" his voice went up an octave while his head tilted to the side so he could squint at her. Acting like he didn't know what she was talking about. Again, he cleared his throat, then continued, "I don't know what you're talking about." he shrugged and tried to play innocent. Which he was failing at. Not only did she know he knew what she was talking about, there were also the telltale signs. The fidgeting, the arms crossing, then uncrossing, then settling at his hips as he tried to decide on a stance to keep while talking with her, and of course the high pitched voice. While it was kind of cute, Molly refused to let herself spiral and focused on what she wanted to talk to him about. That was more important than any stupid <em>fucking</em> crush. God, she wanted puberty to be over so badly.</p><p>"You do." she fixed him with an unamused look, not in the mood for his games. Nor did she have the time. They still had a class to get to. He kept eye contact with her for a moment, fidgeting a bit as he tried to hold out longer. Not that he could; it was an intense gaze to hold. He folded rather quickly, shoulders slumping down like the weight of the secret was too heavy to hold on his own.</p><p>"Fine, okay, yeah, the spider." he gestured to her. Before she continued with her line of questioning, she turned away from him and began to walk toward their first class. It took Peter a second to catch up and realize they were walking, but he managed to fall into step beside her. Then slowed down his gait since he took longer strides than she did considering how tall he was.</p><p>"You said you got bit, but that the bite had already healed." she summarized what he had told her previously. When she didn't hear a verbal response, she looked over and up to see him nod quickly, "A spider bite healing within twenty-four hour isn't possible with <em>any</em> type of spider. Has anything else mysteriously or quickly healed since then?" she raised her eyebrows up a bit. Peter screwed his mouth to the side while he thought about her question.</p><p>"Uh, well, there was this paper cut I got last night from that book we're reading in English class." he gestured outward with one of his insanely long arms. It was a miracle he didn't accidentally smack anyone in the face while he did, "It bled a little but was healed by this morning." he glanced at her to see if that was good enough. It wasn't.</p><p>"Paper cuts <em>normally</em> heal pretty fast. It's a superficial injury." she shook her head, only just hearing him mumble,</p><p>"It didn't <em>feel</em> superficial." There was a look of disappointment on his face that paired with his comment. Both of which Molly ignored.</p><p>"What about the supposed super strength?" she moved on to something else he had mentioned. As they continued down the hall, Peter deftly dodged a fellow student who wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him. Instead of colliding with him like she had seen Peter do countless times in the short time they had been in the same school. She filed that away for future reference.</p><p>"Uh, well, I mean my uncle fixed the door so that's good, I guess," he twisted his hands together, "But I haven't, like, lifted a car or whatever."</p><p>"Have you tried?" she asked with a tilt of her chin down. Peter did a double take, then looked at her.</p><p>"No, no, what, why would I…" he let out a nervous laugh before swallowing hard and shaking his head, "No. No. I haven't." he was as firm as he could be in his answer. Molly sighed deeply. She wasn't getting anywhere with this.</p><p>"Well, what <em>can</em> you do, Peter?" she was rather exasperated by his non-answers to her questions.</p><p>"I don't know!" he raised his shoulders up, eyes going wide, "All I know is that I got bit by that spider and now I can hear, see and do things that I shouldn't be able to hear, see or do." he admitted, eyes still as wide and his cheeks a little pink in color. Like he was embarrassed by it.</p><p>Molly considered him for a moment, then turned to face front for a moment. A beat passed, then she quickly turned and threw her fist out and toward Peter as if going to punch him. In an instant, Peter contorted his body to avoid her fist. The only issue was that since she hadn't set her feet, and there was nothing but air for her fist to go into, the force of her punch tugged her forward.</p><p>Tripping over herself, the floor came into view and she went to catch herself on her hands. But before she could, Peter caught her. Well, steadied her. Made sure she didn't face plant into the linoleum flooring.</p><p>She was back on her feet in a blink of an eye. With her hands on his forearms. And his hands on her hips. Close enough to each other that she could look at him and see how the light made little flecks of gold dance across his irises. The way he looked at her made her heart tightened behind her sternum. Soft concern.</p><p>The ringing of the bell made the world crash down around her. Immediately, she pulled her hands away from his forearms as if she was touching a hot stove. Since she moved away, so did he. His hands fell to his sides, awkwardly going to tug at the hem of his sweater. She crossed hers over her chest so she wouldn't be tempted to reach out and touch him again.</p><p>"What, why, are you okay?" he asked while she turned to face front again. Both to hide her blushing face and continue to their class.</p><p>"Yeah, fine." she shook her hair back over her shoulders, "Just wanted to test your reflexes." she explained. It was true. After seeing how smoothly he was navigating the busy halls without even trying, she <em>did</em> want to test his reflexes. She just didn't mean to fall on her face while she did it. And she hadn't. Thanks to Peter.</p><p>"By <em>punching </em>me?!" What she had done, or tried to do, finally caught up to him. She let out an annoyed huff, then shot him a look.</p><p>"I wasn't <em>actually</em> going to punch you, Peter." she snapped out, covering up her actions. Defending herself, and trying to act like she wasn't as embarrassed as she was for epically failing. She couldn't even <em>punch</em> someone correctly. "I was just trying to find <em>something</em> that could be a side effect of the spider bite." he made a face in confusion.</p><p>"You think me being able to dodge a punch is an effect of the spider bite?" he needed more clarification as they walked into their science class.</p><p>"Maybe." she sighed, still not sure if he had dodged it instinctively or she was just really obvious in her wind up, "But you're not giving me anything else to work with." she added while they walked down to their lab tables.</p><p>"Well, maybe you could come over today after school. And, and, I can show you." he motioned to her with his hand. His word choice made her eye him warily. It wouldn't be fair if he had been hiding things from her, "Or you can test me or whatever. We could, I don't know, we could hang out and maybe figure it out." he gave a casual shrug, then paired it with a half smile that began to slide off his face at her lack of reaction, "Or, or not. If you don't want to, that's cool too." he backtracked quickly, only shutting up when Molly held up her hand and sharply shushed him. She had to think about this one.</p><p>The idea of going over to Peter's house to hang out with him was one thing. The butterflies in her stomach began to stir as she imagined being in his bedroom, alone, with him. She wondered what his bedroom actually looked like, and what it would feel like to be alone in a boy's room with him. What could happen in there…</p><p>Before her cheeks could heat up, she quickly shoved that mental image aside. That wasn't the point of his invitation. And she didn't even <em>want </em>to do anything like that. Especially not with <em>Peter</em>. She just knew what happened on her television shows.</p><p>This visit was strictly for scientific reasons. Nothing more, nothing less. The knowledge gained would outweigh the act itself. She could do this. She could...<em>hang out</em> with Peter Parker. Because, she reminded herself, it wasn't a normal boy/girl hangout. It was for science.</p><p>"Okay." she agreed rather hesitantly. Then she nodded, "Okay." she repeated herself, more confident in her decision. She was <em>finally</em> going to figure out what happened to him in Oscorp. And what the spider <em>really </em>did to him. Then she would never have to talk to, or <em>hang out</em> with Peter Parker ever again.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>A/N: They're gonna hang out! Also Molly with this crush, she can't stand it haha. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please let me know all your thoughts and theories. Hope you're staying safe and healthy! Love you all!</em>
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